I want to see what secrets you’re hiding from me beneath your clumsy lies.

Jinguuji Tsukiyomi glanced silently at the notebook on the table, showing no intention of picking it up. Instead, his gaze shifted to Hoshinomori Hoshino.

“What is this?”

“A diary.”

Although the question seemed a bit foolish, Jinguuji Tsukiyomi had to ask.

“Whose diary is it?”

“Why, it’s mine, of course.”

“I see.” The boy nodded, then continued, “Does President Hoshinomori have a penchant for self-disclosure?”

The girl pressed her forefinger against her soft pink lips. Even though the gesture was somewhat affected, her beauty and charm were undeniable.

“Hmm… perhaps. Maybe it’s all things I want to tell you, Jinguuji. Rather than a diary, you could call it a love letter?”

She phrased it playfully, as if trying to lighten the mood, but Jinguuji Tsukiyomi could not bring himself to smile.

“It sounds as if the most beautiful girl in school has fallen in love with me.”

“Oh? Aren’t you pleased?”

“How could I not be? I’m so happy I could cry.”

“So Jinguuji cares about me that much? Please save your moving words until you’ve read it.”

“……”

With a gentle smile, the girl made a gesture inviting him to proceed.

Jinguuji’s gaze flicked back and forth between the girl’s expression and the notebook on the table. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to reach for it.

“What’s the matter? Aren’t you going to read it?”

Under Hoshinomori Hoshino’s subtle urging, the boy let out a soft sigh.

“To be honest, I consider myself an outstanding young man—top of the class, good looks, and being ostracized by my classmates has made me realize just how different I am. I think those who can’t live without clustering together are pitiable weaklings.

“Someone as exceptional as me wouldn’t be surprised by any girl’s confession.

“Yet, I’ve never seen a confession quite like yours, President Hoshinomori. Honestly, you could have written a letter and slipped it into my shoe locker. If I had time, I might read it and even write back, becoming pen pals that way.”

“But wouldn’t that just blend in with all the other girls’ love letters? It might sound improper, but I’d rather be special.”

“Unfortunately, I never find love letters in my shoe locker. Occasionally, there are thumbtacks or trash.”

“Didn’t you say you’re an outstandingly handsome guy? Why so pitiful?”

“Indeed. It’s because they lack the courage to become a target.”

“I see. Ordinary girls get swallowed up by the atmosphere.”

“That’s just how it is,” Jinguuji Tsukiyomi said, spreading his hands.

“So this is a job only I can do—as student council president and as a girl.”

“……”

Despite saying so much, nothing seemed to have changed, and the stalemate between the boy and girl persisted.

From Jinguuji’s perspective, the notebook on the table radiated danger. If it contained how many times they’d hugged or kissed, things could get out of hand.

He couldn’t help but grumble inwardly about the system, wishing it would have patched these loopholes more smoothly.

Jinguuji’s prolonged silence was met with Hoshinomori Hoshino’s composed smile.

“You seem unwilling to read it no matter what, which makes me all the more curious as to why.

“Ah! Is it because you’re shy? Should I read it aloud for you?”

……

As the girl’s finger touched the notebook, Jinguuji Tsukiyomi’s indifferent expression twitched slightly.

Her slender fingers gently opened the notebook, turning page after page with care.

The girl in front of him seemed to instantly immerse herself in that world, silently leafing through the pages without a word. The time stretched on, making the boy feel a certain torment.

Suddenly—

“Hey, Jinguuji, can you guess how I’m feeling right now?”

Hoshinomori Hoshino’s gaze remained on the notebook, never once glancing at the boy. Her tone, no longer as composed as before, held a trace of uncertainty, though she seemed to force herself to remain resolute.

She gently turned the notebook over and placed it on the coffee table. Jinguuji’s eyes were drawn to it involuntarily as a breeze, as if on cue, came through the window, riffling the pages one after another.

The fluttering pages rustled audibly.

The boy was momentarily stunned, then an array of complicated emotions flickered across his face.

His gaze fell upon nothing but blank pages.

Not a single word filled the so-called diary.

“If, earlier, you had reached for the notebook without hesitation and with a clear conscience, I’d have thought there was something wrong with my head. Maybe, just as you said, I should see a doctor.

“But you’re far too cautious, always on guard around me, as if I might devour you at any moment. The more you act like this, the more curious I become.

“I want to see what secrets you’re hiding beneath those clumsy lies.

“And, besides, I am a girl—girls’ diaries aren’t something to show lightly; it would be terribly embarrassing.

“Well… maybe if it were a lover, it wouldn’t matter so much. But you know, people always struggle to express their true thoughts in words, yet with writing, they can pour their hearts out.

“In this regard, I think you’re unexpectedly a rather straightforward boy.”

“At least call me guileless.”

“Do you enjoy splitting hairs over words?”

“For the most part.”

Seeing the boy’s rather gloomy expression, the girl let out a giggle, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction rise within her.

“There’s something I’d like to clarify: I don’t expect anything from you, nor do I intend to use this as leverage.

“Don’t be fooled by my appearance—I’m actually quite thick-skinned. My insistence on getting to the bottom of things is pure curiosity. Don’t flatter yourself thinking I’ve fallen for you or anything like that; it would just make things awkward.

“The reason I keep coming to you is because I sincerely hope you’ll join the student council. We’re really short-handed, and I need someone as clever as you to help me.

“I know you don’t like mingling with others. It’s fine if you take the work home. And if it really doesn’t work, let’s set a time limit—just stay until the end of the cultural festival.

“After that, you’re free to go.”

Jinguuji Tsukiyomi was silent for a long time before speaking softly, “President Hoshinomori, may I ask you a question?”

She nodded.

He paused for quite a while, then, with a hint of timidity and a muted voice, asked, “What did you write in your real diary?”

Jinguuji thought he must be afraid now—afraid of hearing the grievances of an ordinary girl from Hoshinomori Hoshino’s lips.

Even so, he wanted to know what she truly thought.

Surely she must hate him; that would only be natural, given what he had done.

The memory of the despairing tears she had shed was unbearable—he couldn’t bring himself to meet the girl’s gaze or endure sharing the same space with her.

Then, a gentle voice reached his ears.

“There’s nothing.”

Her smile, quiet as starlight, dispelled the unease that clung to him, soothing the harsh self-reproach in his heart.

“I lied to you—there’s no diary at all.”

“……”

“I simply found this.”

She handed him a photograph. Though the lighting was poor in the night, making the image a bit blurry, he could see fireworks in full bloom and the boy’s profile in a summer kimono.

With that, Jinguuji Tsukiyomi fell silent for a long time.

“I don’t know what memories you carry or how you see me, but none of that matters.

“To me, we’ve met only a handful of times; you’re simply an interesting underclassman, nothing more.

“Don’t keep imprisoning yourself in the past.”